


Dark Phoenix

by Chaos_Valkyrie



Series: 1character Challenge Series [4]
Category: The Legend of Dragoon
Genre: Gen, Introspection, mentions of other canon characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6966946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Valkyrie/pseuds/Chaos_Valkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>50 Insights into the world of Rose, Dragoon of Darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 1character LJ Challenge, set Zeta. 50 sentence drabbles about Rose! Based on her entire life of 11000 years!

Swords.  
She’s held over a hundred different swords in the course of her long life – a new one purchased every 108 years, as the old one is tossed aside, drenched in blood.

Sorcery.  
A momentary pang of sympathy emerges for Faust; like she, he’s lived in solitude for 11000 years, driven mad by this eternity of regrets.

Rogue.  
Rose felt something strange welling up in her heart when Zieg winked at her mischievously from behind Kanzas’ back, a bucket of water perched precariously in his hands.

Parti-colored.   
Seven towers join to form one united wheel, each emblazoned with the colors of the individual dragoon within.

Divination.  
“The real fear has not even begun yet…”

Pillory.   
A single memory lingers of her parents, bound hand and neck, publicly flogged and ridiculed by their masters for not producing enough grain that drought and plague infested year. 

Chant.  
The woman is kneeling, praying, begging to any god that might listen to save them; moments later, Rose steps over her corpse and starts towards the crib.

Castle.  
As the others behold the Crystal Palace with awe, she only sneers in contempt at the memory of how it first came to rest here.

Brocade.   
Shana squeals with delight over the rich fabrics and the promise of a beautiful new dress, but Rose declines the offer, favoring the soft gleam and subtle jointing of her armor.

Priestess.  
Standing in her own tower, before her personal shrine, she raises a hand in hope that this siege will be the final battle.

Dark Knight.  
She activates the Spirit Stone above her chest, smirking as the magic coalesces about her like a shadowy plague.

Evocation.   
“Die,” she chants, summoning forth her Spirit form, willing the pawns before her to join their ancestors in the pit of Mayfil.

Market.  
Striding through the myriad of colors, textures, and smells, she wonders if one day she will be forced to raze this city to the ground as well.

Ordeal by Fire.  
Forgetting Shana, forgetting Dart, forgetting the imminent destruction of the world, all she could do was stare into Zieg’s eyes in the depths of Vellweb as her heart shattered within her.

Ordeal by Water.  
“Rose, I did it, I’m a Dragoon too,” Damia squealed, tackling and hugging a laughing Rose for all she is worth.

Dragon.  
Michael reared before her, Wingly blood dripping from his maw, looking for the adulation that she lovingly gave him.

Giant.  
It seemed Fate had counted on Dart ignoring her at that moment, and though it pained her to admit it, she was glad he had allowed Kongol to live.

Trickster.  
“Meru, if you don’t tell me where you’ve hidden my sword in two seconds…” she trailed off, letting the unspoken threat hang as the young Wingly ran away, panic stricken.

Dungeon.  
The festering smell of unwashed flesh and violently-spilled blood in Hellena reminds her sharply of the reasons she’s been ‘at war’ for so long.

Scroll.  
A slight smirk threatens to escape as she watches Albert struggle beneath his pile of ‘reference materials’ in the lone bookstore in Lohan.

Elemental.  
Churning, shifting, flaring; she loses herself momentarily in the fire spirit’s glow, duty all but forcing her to award it a quick death.

Ale.  
She tried to drown her self-loathing in the pale brew, once; but no amount of alcohol could help her forget the stain on her soul.

Stew.  
“Um, this is… great, Shana,” she lies, wondering if the other Dragoon would notice if she banished the vile concoction through the Demon’s Gate.

Staff.  
Summoning all the power it possesses, she merely raises one eyebrow as the Dragon Block Staff crumbles in her hands before the Divine Dragon’s fury.

Lore.  
Rose wonders if Dart and the others, after sifting through all the legends and myths and fables, will forgive her for holding the truth to herself the entire time.

Artifact.  
The Virage slowly sinks beneath the lava, and Rose wonders how many more remnants from the past will come back to haunt her.

Guild.  
Once upon a time, freedom was purchased with blood and violence; it amuses her that today it is renewed and upheld by bureaucracy and red tape.

Lantern.  
Ignoring their cautions, Rose melts into the darkness of the seaside cavern to explore in solitude; why do they think that she, of all people, would ever get lost in the dark?

Chest.  
She rolls her eyes as Dart and the others exclaim in awe over their latest acquisition on the path to Volcano Villude… one measly potion is not going to save the world.

Alchemy.  
Rose knows disaster is on the threshold when she hears Syuveil mutter, “I wonder what will happen if I mix this with that?”

Potion.  
“Quit being so damned stoic and drink this, damn it!” Zieg curses her prone form, but she can still see the fear lingering in his eyes.

Doppelganger.  
The shadows are her domain; they unerringly guide her past the replicas to the true Sandora Elite.

Arrow.  
All Rose hears is “Belzac! Your death won’t be in vain,” before even Shirley is consumed by the light.

Map.  
“Why can’t they ever just stop and ask for directions?” Shana asks her, giggling as Rose shakes her head at the men arguing over a roll of parchment a few feet away.

Coin.  
“This is how we pay for our journey,” she told Dart, pulling the bloody coins from the corpse before them and tossing them towards his grimacing hands.

Crusade.  
The memories of war and slavery are what keep her head held high as she continues to fight throughout the ages.

Witch.  
‘Witch’ was one of the nicer names Kanzas called her; she supposed it was natural, seeing as how she could never match Shirley’s radiance in his eyes.

Duel.  
“I'm sorry but you don't have time to be in love anymore, because you will die here,” she snarls, brandishing her rapier at the false princess.

Boots.  
Its morning, and as she puts them back on, she wonders (not for the first time in eleven thousand years) if her companions will dare to ask why her boots are two vastly different lengths.

Chalice.  
Zenebatos has fallen; Zieg clanks his goblet against her own to toast their victory.

Offering.  
They stood before Diaz the morning of the final battle, seven dragoons strong; and she alone returned, the sole sacrifice refused on the altar of war.

Sacrifice.  
With no future left to live for, she gladly clutched immortality in her hand, if only to prevent anyone else from sharing her sorrow.

Stained Glass.  
She stood alone, staring at the grotesque image of the Black Monster in the windows before her, and smirked.

Diadem.   
The war was over, the terror had receded, and as the world of men celebrated the new Emperor’s coronation, she was forced to mask her sorrow and stand beside him, one hero holding the post that seven once filled.

Epic.  
Bitter laughter escapes her lips as Shirley’s ghost proclaims her very long life to be an epic, sad tale.

King.  
She did not think that it was her lack of deference that shocked him, so much as her complete and utter lack of caring – after all, she knew for a fact that kings die just like any other men.

Servant.  
She was a slave to Endiness, and her chains took the shape of a simple choker about her neck.

Fae.  
One glance, and Rose knew what Meru was, even if the others remained clueless; she carried that same unearthly beauty that all Winglies seemed to share.

Prophecy.  
Lost in the sands of time, she alone clings to the truth of her mission, as the rest of the world rises and dwindles about her. 

Destiny.  
She long ago gave up any belief in fate – for she refused to believe that destiny alone could force someone to linger in a bloody haze for eleven thousand years.

**Author's Note:**

> All righty, here’s another one! I plan to keep trying these, as I’m using this to explore secondary characters who are kind of understudied and/or underappreciated. And although Rose is a major character, this is a little appreciated fandom, so I’m counting it. That and Rose rocks.


End file.
